Imagine this:
A small path that widens and narrows along the way. Patches of dirt here and there, grass off to the side of the path, whereas small shiny pebbles layered the path. Often you walk by a small puddle and a few rabbits or just random rodents, and sometimes you pass by similar people that you nod to as you pass by.
The pebbles start to increase, as the grass decreases, and you pass through a long arch of stone. People are pushing carts along side you, or dragging unruly boyfriends or girlfriends to try to correct their manner, or laughing with their friends.
All this is passing by you.
And the path leads up to one particular girl. She is standing by a stone building with her hands clenched in fists, holding her arms shakily in front of her chest, her hands resting right underneath her chin. She takes a step back as she finds she is in someone's way, and she then walks off, putting her arms to her side.
Ah, she shouldn't be afraid. Not her. Not Oreca Ri.
Oreca put her hands to her side and began taking each step firmly with confidence. She hopped over a few stones her and there, her grin getting wilder every hop. This was her life.
This, my friends, is an ultimate noob.
You wouldn't take Oreca as a noob. Well, maybe by her appearance: She was clad in long, baggy, black pants, and a white tank top to match it. She carried a long bronze sword at her side and a shield on her back. She walked barefoot: not that she didn't have any shoes… she just walked barefoot. Even I don't know why.
If you looked at Oreca's hair, you would stop and silently compliment, "Now how does she get her hair to stay like that? It's beautiful!" Oreca's hair wasn't really that ordinary. Sure, it was a dull brown color, but it was the style that everyone admired. Her shoulder length bangs were done in tight braids, and the ends were tied back with the rest of her hair that was in a ponytail. But then you would have to take a good look at her ponytail. You would find many tiny braids contained by the ponytail. Each one of the braided strands reached up and around of another braided piece of hair.
No one has ever asked how Oreca braided her hair like that. And she never talks of it. It's definitely not something to be afraid to ask; Oreca had just never cared.
And don't ask how she washes her hair. Because I don't know that either.
But now, let me introduce some characters who just happened to be in the same town as Oreca: Aay and Patrick Black. Both known far and wide for their talents and for their dedication to keep Runescape safe. Aay was currently standing in line impatiently to melt her ore, and Patrick was currently arguing with a bank teller who doesn't know how to count.
Oreca just happened to pass by Patrick, and Patrick had wished later that day that he hadn't been born. Now, how in the world did the all high and mighty PATRICK wish that?
Read and find out.